A Spell of Murder

by Kennedy Kerr

  She held out her hand and Hebrides, submissive now, hopped gently on to the back of her wrist with a guttural growl, as if to say, Sorry, but I don’t like him. Temerity suppressed a smile and stroked Hebrides’ downy head.

  ‘Hebrides! Come back!’ Tilda trotted into the kitchen, with a cross expression on her face. ‘Oh! Sorry. I didn’t know you’d come home. He just came back in from being out and I forgot to close the door. Hello, I’m Tilda.’

  Tilda proffered her hand, but the Constable just stared at it, obviously shaken.

  ‘Angus, I’m so sorry! I forgot to warn you about Hebrides. He’s very protective of us, but he’s a softie really. Sit down, you’re okay. I don’t think he hurt you.’ Temerity took a quick look at Angus’s neck and cheek but Hebrides hadn’t broken the skin.

  Tilda clicked her tongue and the bird flew to her instead.

  ‘So sorry,’ she repeated. ‘I should have closed the door.’

  ‘That’s… all right. Angus Harley.’ The Constable held out his hand shakily.

  ‘Oh! The new constable.’ Hebrides sat on Tilda’s shoulder now, making a purring noise and looking for all the world like nothing had happened. ‘I heard.’

  ‘Is that… are you allowed to have a pet that… big?’ Harley asked.

  ‘Oh, yes. He’s a Hyacinth Macaw. Definitely one of the biggest ones, but actually one of the gentlest. Macaws actually make good pets as long as you have the right environment and give them lots of playtime; they have the flock mentality, so they like being part of a family. Hebrides loves puzzles, he talks and sings. He does make a racket first thing in the morning and last thing at night, but we’re used to it.’

  ‘Oh… right. I suppose I didn’t… really expect to be attacked by a massive bright blue bird, that’s all. My mistake,’ Harley said, rubbing his shoulder. ‘He really dug his claws in. Ow.’

  Temerity peered at Harley’s uniform jacket; there were puncture marks where Hebrides had clung on.

  ‘Oh no. You’re right, I’m so sorry.’ She shook her head. ‘You’re going to need to disinfect those. We keep him as clean as we can but it’s best to be on the safe side. Let’s have a look.’ She went to peel back Harley’s jacket but he pulled away.

  He looked uncomfortable. ‘That’s fine, I’ll sort it out later.’

  ‘It’s no trouble at all. We’ve got Tilda’s antiseptic ointment in the bathroom. It’s tea tree, garlic and ginger. Come on, I’ll show you.’ Temerity pointed to the bathroom door. ‘I don’t want to be responsible for killing our new police constable by giving him septicaemia. I’m not taking no for an answer.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be all right,’ he grumbled, but followed Temerity to the bathroom that led off the kitchen. There was another bathroom with a vintage claw-footed bath upstairs, in which Tilda took long baths and read romance novels. It was an unexpected character trait for someone so caustic in her manner, but deep down, Tilda was an unabashed romantic. Sadly, real life just never measured up to the heroes and heroines she read with such devotion.

  Temerity and Tilda actually tended to use the downstairs bathroom to bathe Hebrides, but Temerity didn’t feel like it was a good time to mention that and anyway, it was clean and tidy. They’d kept the original avocado suite that their parents had installed in the 1970s: it was still in good condition and neither of them had the time or energy to want to change it.

  ‘Wow. This is something else.’ Harley blinked at the vivid purple tiling that covered the entire wall space.

  ‘I know. Our parents had great taste.’ Temerity opened the medicine cabinet on the wall and took out a brown glass jar of Tilda’s anti-microbial salve. ‘You’ll need to take your jacket and shirt off and I’ll put it on for you.’

  ‘I’d rather put it on myself.’ Harley held out his hand for the jar. ‘I’m fine, really.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. You can’t reach it as easily as I can,’ Temerity replied.

  ‘Really, Miss Love. I must insist.’ He held out his hand for the salve. ‘Please.’

  There was a slight, uncomfortable pause. Have it your way, Wolfman. I was just trying to help. Don’t eat the salve when I’m gone. Temerity was irritated that he wouldn’t let her help. It was as if he just didn’t want to admit that he needed her for something.

  ‘Fine. Wash your shoulder area first with the soap there, that’s also antiseptic, then put the cream on. You can use the small towel on the top there, it’s clean.’ She pointed to a small pile of handtowels in a basket by the sink and handed him the glass jar. Harley nodded.

  ‘Will do.’ He nodded.

  Temerity pulled the door closed after her and returned to the kitchen, then remembered that she hadn’t explained how much of the salve to use. If you used too much it tended to get into your clothes and was hard to wash out.

  ‘Sorry, I forgot –’ she pushed the door slightly ajar, catching Harley bare-chested at the sink – ‘Oh…’

  He was as muscular as she had expected, with broad shoulders and large, tight biceps; as he leaned forward over the sink, the muscles in his back flexed. But it was his shoulder, the one that Hebrides had sat on, that Temerity couldn’t help staring at. Down one whole side of his torso, burn marks twisted and scarred his flesh into red-and-white patterns. Some of the burns trailed onto his back.

  He turned around in surprise.

  ‘Oh. Sorry.’ Temerity blushed. ‘I, errr… I forgot to say – only use about a pea-sized amount.’

  ‘Right.’ He stared at her, waiting for her to leave. Temerity realised she was staring. ‘I’ll manage.’ Harley repeated, his cheeks colouring. He was embarrassed; she could tell he hadn’t wanted her to see his scars.

  ‘Right. Yes, of course. Sorry.’ Temerity blushed and shut the door, mortified.

  A few moments later he came out of the bathroom, fully dressed. Temerity had gone to sit at her desk in the shop.

  ‘I put the jar back in the cupboard,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘Thanks.’ Temerity looked at her laptop. ‘I’m so sorry about just now, I didn’t mean to—’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he interrupted. ‘I really should be off, anyway.’

  ‘Right.’ There was another awkward pause. ‘How did you… they’re burns, aren’t they?’ Temerity asked shyly.

  ‘Yes. I got them in a fire,’ he said and gave her that polite but dismissive nod she’d seen so many times already. ‘Thanks for the tea. Be seeing you.’

  The door had closed before Temerity had time to say anything else. Temerity sighed. Scylla, the fat black cat, jumped into her lap.

  ‘Yes, darling. He’s a tough customer, that one.’ Temerity stroked Scylla’s velvety ears thoughtfully. She wondered what had happened to Angus Harley in that fire; it would have to have been a bad one to come away with scars like those.

  ‘I suppose I’ll never know,’ she told the cat, who chirruped at her. She clicked on the icon for the internet. Angus Harley might want to remain a mystery, but the sigil inside the Russian doll might give up its secrets with a little more research.

  9

  ‘Temerity, I just can’t believe that a teacher from my school was murdered. Murder! And in school hours, too. It’s not even like Molly had some sort of double life in the evenings, as far as I’m aware, anyway. She didn’t get mugged, she didn’t get accidentally involved in… I don’t know, a bank robbery that went wrong. Murdered. In my staff room! I just don’t think I’ll ever get over it.’

  Laura Hardcastle shook her head and wiped a tear from her eye. Temerity handed her a tissue from the box on her desk that she used mainly for picking up fragile items in the shop, or wiping down the furniture on the rare occasions that one of the cats brought in a mouse and laid it out as an offering for her.

  ‘It must have been such a shock,’ Temerity agreed. It was three-thirty in the afternoon and Laura had come by after the school day for a chat. Sometimes, people liked to unburden themselves to her.

  Laura had, in fact, come in on the pretext o
f wanting to buy something, but Temerity could tell that really, she just needed to talk. Not that Temerity wouldn’t sell her something if she was interested; takings were almost non-existent for this time of year. At least she had her consultancy work, otherwise she and Tilda would be living on bread and water.

  ‘I can’t tell you how much.’ Laura sighed. ‘She wasn’t the best teacher we’ve ever had and she wasn’t overly popular. But she was one of mine, nonetheless. I interviewed her. I gave her the job. I feel somehow responsible.’

  ‘You’re not responsible.’ Temerity reached out and squeezed Laura’s hand. ‘Come on. These things happen.’

  ‘I know. But you always imagine this kind of thing happens in a city somewhere. Not in Lost Maidens Loch.’ Laura sipped the mug of coffee Temerity had made her and sat back in her chair. ‘What a week.’

  ‘You say that, but the village has had its share of unusual goings-on,’ Temerity said.

  ‘Hmmm. I suppose so.’ Laura leaned forward. ‘Last week, Mr McKinley. This week, Miss Bayliss. This year is doomed.’

  ‘Ben McKinley?’ Temerity remembered the teacher who had cried in the staff room.

  ‘Yes. Well, I shouldn’t really say…’ Laura looked evasive.

  ‘All right.’ Temerity sat back, knowing that the teacher wanted to tell her something.

  ‘Well. The thing is, we had to give Ben a formal warning. For harassment of his fellow teachers. One in particular.’ Laura shot Temerity a meaningful look.

  ‘Molly?’

  ‘Yes. She complained he’d been following her home, texting her late at night about non work-related things. Personal things, if you get my meaning.’ Laura raised her eyebrows. ‘Clearly, whatever my teachers do in their own time is up to them. We don’t specifically say that they aren’t allowed to have relationships with each other, but it’s not ideal.’

  ‘Were they in a relationship, then?’ Temerity asked.

  ‘He says yes, she says – said – no. She complained he was harassing her at work, demanding that she go out with him, interrupting her classes, even, to call her out into the corridor so he could talk to her. It was affecting her work and she said she didn’t feel safe.’

  ‘Have you told the Inspector all this?’ Temerity asked. ‘Someone else said much the same thing about him. It sounds like this gives McKinley a major motive for killing her.’

  ‘I told him. I don’t know that it makes him a murderer, though,’ Laura said. ‘I’ve put him on suspension while the Inspector looks into it.’

  ‘What did McKinley think about that?’ Temerity picked up her coffee and drank it. As usual, it was the bitter, thick variety Tilda liked. She made a face and put the mug down.

  ‘Not much, as you can imagine. He couldn’t believe I was going to heap misery on him by suspending him after the love of his life had just died. I didn’t remind him that “love of her life” wasn’t exactly how she thought of him.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Temerity mused. ‘So, who do you think did it, if not Ben McKinley?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea. But I hope this all gets sorted soon. I’ve got nigh on a hundred worried children thinking that there’s a murderer on the loose. They’re terrified, the poor things. I’ll certainly rest easier once the culprit’s been caught.’ Laura shrugged.

  ‘Of course,’ Temerity agreed. ‘I think we all will. But why don’t we take our minds off it for now and look at some of the new stock? I’ve just had some lovely new candlesticks in.’

  ‘Yes. You’re right. I need to distract myself with some retail therapy.’ Laura smiled ruefully. She held out a hand for Temerity’s as they stood up; startled, Temerity froze. She could feel the worry and concern flowing from the teacher; it was as if it swam under Laura’s skin and into hers. Despite her professional façade, Temerity could feel just how anxious the head teacher was. ‘It’s just that… I haven’t been sleeping. It’s horrible, Temerity. I keep reliving it in my dreams… walking in to the staff room and seeing her there, sprawled out on the carpet.’

  Temerity gave Laura an awkward hug. Other people’s emotions could be overwhelming sometimes and she didn’t like to pull away when people needed a hug or their hand held. But having the gift of knowing through touch could often be difficult. You got more than you might expect.

  ‘It’ll be okay. I have faith in the Inspector,’ Temerity reassured her.

  ‘But what if Ben did murder her?’ Laura appealed to Temerity, gripping both her hands tightly. Temerity subtly tried to pull them free, but she couldn’t break her friend’s hold. ‘What if I’ve had a murderer under my nose all this time? With the children? I’d never forgive myself.’

  A wave of confusion and grief swept over Temerity. She managed to extricate her wrists from Laura’s grip.

  ‘We never really know who the people are that we live with, day to day,’ Temerity said, quietly. ‘All we can do is live in good faith that they are who they say they are.’ People in Lost Maidens Loch had secrets. It was that kind of place. Who knew what shadowy truths lay behind their smiles?

  ‘And if they’re not?’ Laura demanded.

  ‘Then it’s still not your fault. The only person responsible for Molly’s murder is the murderer, whoever that may be.’ Temerity tried to smile reassuringly. When did I become the village therapist? I’m not that good at it, she thought.

  Laura blew her nose and wiped her eyes. ‘I’m sorry I got so emotional.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry.’ Temerity felt awkward. She never really had got the hang of the sage village witch thing, dispensing wise advice by a crackling hearth. That kind of thing was more Tilda’s style: despite her occasionally brusque manner, Tilda was great with people who came to her for genuine help. It was just the non-believers she had little time for. ‘Let’s have some sherry, shall we? Or a crème de menthe. That usually cheers me up.’

  She went over to an antique drinks cabinet in the shape of a globe – they’d been quite popular in her parents’ day – and opened the top of the sphere to reveal a number of bottles and glasses. Laura chuckled wryly and came to stand next to Temerity.

  ‘My goodness. It’s like the 1970s never left,’ she said and took out a bottle of brandy. ‘Go on, then. For the shock.’

  ‘Of course. It’s purely medicinal,’ Temerity answered seriously and handed Laura a vintage green brandy glass. ‘I think I’ll join you.’

  As she handed the glass to Laura Hardcastle, Temerity glanced at the unusual clip in the Headmistress’s black hair. It was in the shape of a stag.

  10

  There was no one else in The Singing Kettle when Temerity got there the next morning. She’d been hoping to run into Inspector Hyland to find out more about what the other teachers had said about Molly, but he wasn’t in his usual place at the counter. She wondered if she should mention the stag on Laura’s hair slide. Was it coincidence, or something more? She didn’t know, but it would be interesting to find out what Laura had said in her police interview, and whether the Inspector was suspicious of her in any way.

  ‘Morning, darlin’,’ Muriel greeted her. Today she was wearing a tartan apron which read Dinnae teach yer granny tae suck eggs over her standard jeans and fleece. ‘What’s it tae be today?’

  ‘Breakfast, please. Cooked.’ Tilda, a principled vegetarian, refused to have meat in the house, so Temerity often had a full Scottish at the café: sausage, egg, bacon, baked beans, black pudding, warm potato scone, fried mushrooms, toast and tea. If you had one of Muriel’s breakfasts, you didn’t need another meal until dinner that night.

  ‘Right ye are.’ Muriel turned away and laid three strips of thick bacon into a waiting frying pan, already bubbling with oil. ‘Mind ye, I should scold ye, Temerity Love. Ye never came back from the school tae have a blether like I asked ye.’

  Temerity had completely forgotten.

  ‘Oh, Muriel. I’m so sorry!’ She felt terrible.

  ‘Ah, don’t worry. I’ve got ma sources.’ Muriel added a large slice of bl
ack pudding into the pan and cracked two orange-yolked eggs into the pan. The sizzling made Temerity’s stomach rumble.

  ‘So what did they say?’

  Muriel looked around her as if checking no one was listening, even though the café was empty. She leaned confidentially towards Temerity.

  ‘Seems that the teacher, Molly, wasn’t that popular with the parents, for one thing. School received complaints that she’d been rude, shouted at the kids too much.’ Muriel raised her eyebrow. ‘And apparently she didnae get on with her flatmate either. Inspector Hyland says ye went up there with the new Constable.’

  ‘He asked me to,’ Temerity said, defensively. So far, none of this was news. Laura and Beth had said as much.

  ‘Aye. Well, seems that poor Beth Bennett picked the wrong one tae move in. Molly had an affair with Beth’s fiancé. Beth had already asked her to leave, given her notice, like, when she died.’

  ‘Molly Bayliss had an affair with Beth Bennett’s fiancé?’ That threw things into a different light and gave Beth a very good reason for wanting Molly dead. Crimes of passion could be deadly. Temerity resolved to ask Angus if Beth had let that particular fact slip while she was making cow eyes at him. She suspected not.

  ‘Aye. How’re you getting on with the new policeman, then? Takin’ a shine tae him? Yer not the only one, I can tell ye.’ Muriel turned the bacon and buttered some toast, shaking her head. ‘Place like Lost Maidens Loch, if a good-lookin’ single man turns up, lassies lose their heads.’

  ‘I have not taken a shine to him, Muriel. In fact, he’s quite rude and standoffish,’ Temerity remarked. She considered telling Muriel about her raised by wolves theory, but she didn’t think Muriel would get it.

  ‘Aye, well. What’s fer ye will no go by ye.’ It was a phrase that meant if something was meant to be, then it would come to pass, whatever happened. Muriel placed the large plate of breakfast in front of her. ‘That’s five pounds, darlin’.’